The Knights of the Round Table
by DecoyDream
Summary: A collection of short stories centering around each of Camelot's finest and their respective lady companions. Part 1: Sir Leon. Part 2: Sir Gwaine.
1. Part 1: Sir Leon

**Part 1: Sir Leon**

The amount of times he would sneak around the laundry rooms was getting ridiculous. He was quickly running out of clothes to needlessly wash and he had no other excuses to explain his presence.

Bundling his spare red cloak (which he purposely spilled wine on the night before) under his arm, he descended the stone steps to the warm rooms beneath the castle full of steam and pleasant powdery smells.

The servants curtsied and bowed, giving him mumbled greetings before scurrying away to do other tasks. If they had thought his appearance was suspicious, he never heard any of them voice it.

Except Poppy, an older woman with a warm smile who ran the laundry rooms with an iron fist. While she never actually said anything, Leon could not ignore the knowing looks she would give him whenever he appeared in this section of the castle. As of the moment, she was looking over a younger woman, watching with hawk like vision as she struggled to scrub a stain out of a pale shirt. Her long black hair was sloppily braided, sections falling out the harder she scrubbed. She had an intense frown on her rounded face, her black brows drawing together in evident frustration. With one exaggerated hand movement, she managed to slosh water all over her lap as well as Poppy's apron.

"Gemma! You've really got to be more careful!" huffed Poppy though she didn't look particularly angry.

Gemma looked meek and apologetic, as the warm soapy water permeated her faded dress "Sorry about that"

Poppy gave her a half hearted glare while blotting at her front with a rag "Clean yourself up and have some lunch while you're at it. Be back within half an hour!"

She stormed off, leaving Gemma to clean the mess she created. Mopping up the soapy water, she started humming to herself, not realising that Leon was watching.

Feeling awkward, Leon cleared his throat pointedly and smiled in what he hoped was a friendly fashion. Gemma whirled around, most of her hair coming loose from the braid. She only looked mildly startled, before her expression turned warm and welcoming.

"Hello Sir Leon, what can I do for you today?" she asked pleasantly, getting up from her knees and wiping her wet hands on the part of her pale blue dress that was still dry.

Leon felt the uncharacteristic sensations of nervousness flutter in his stomach when he looked into her sparkling black eyes "I-I decided to bring my clothes down myself"

She held her hand out and for one bizarre moment, Leon almost took it. Feeling the tips of his ears glow red at that completely unfounded idea, he handed the cloak to her which she unravelled and inspected with a thoughtful expression.

"You've really got to stop spilling wine on your clothes Sir Leon," remarked Gemma wryly

Leon felt a flash of embarrassment, knowing that it was terribly impolite for him to make more work for her and the others. Rubbing his sweaty palms unhelpfully against his chain mail, he took a deep breath before addressing her again.

"Gemma?"

She still had the cloak in front of her, pulling a small bar of soap from the wooden bench and giving the fabric a few swipes before mixing it with a few drops of warm water to see if they stain would come out.

"Hmm?" she responded distractedly.

Leon rocked on his heels while he steadied his tone "Well, there's a celebration in the marketplace next week and I'm not on duty that night. I was wondering…. I was wondering whether you would like to go?"

She stopped her scrubbing, bringing down the cloak to look at Leon properly. She wasn't laughing, which was a good sign according to Leon, but she did have a look of supreme amusement on her face which unsettled him.

"Whether I would like to go?" she repeated, a secretive little smirk on her face.

He nodded before amending "With me, I mean. Would you like to go with me?"

He wished he didn't sound quite so hopeful but at least it was over and done with. If she said no, then that was fine. He would be fine. He'll just never show up here again out of embarrassment at her rejection. But what if he bumped into her when she dropped the laundry off in his room? He couldn't escape the awkward encounters forever-

"I would love to"

"That's fine-" started Leon, anticipating the refusal before he registered what she had said "Wait. What?"

She smiled "I said I would love to. I'll meet you at the front of the castle when the sun sets?"

"I'll meet you there milady" he agreed, grinning widely. She stood up her on toes and kissed his cheek before waving him away. Still stunned at the events that had transpired, Leon mechanically made his way back to the throne room where the scheduled meeting with the high council was held. Sitting down in his seat, he resisted the urge to grin like an idiot when discussing battle plans all the while steadfastly ignoring Gwaine's incessant pestering about what made him look so happy.

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_A/N: I've got a million things to do but I've always been terrible at prioritizing so...let me know what you think? ;)_

_- DecoyDream x_


	2. Part 2: Sir Gwaine

**Part 2: Sir Gwaine**

The tavern was busy as usual and Gwaine was seated, or more accurately _slumped_ over his chair. He drank ale and wine till the lights became blurry and the perpetual noise that soaked through him was dulled to a loud throb.

Merlin always said he had a drinking problem but Gwaine had rationalised that if he was doing a good deed by protecting this kingdom, then at least he could enjoy its perks (which in this case included the occasional free alcoholic beverage as well as the attentions of a bar maid who he had _strictly _platonic feelings for).

"Ready to get hauled home yet Gwaine?" came an unimpressed voice from somewhere above him.

He made a move to raise his head but only managed to turn his face slightly sideways. Although all he saw was a blurry shape with a mop of orange-red hair, he knew it was her.

"Oh hello Sylvia. Didn't see you there" he slurred, his eyes squinting in the warm light.

She collected some empty flagons in front of her, leaning over so that he got a whiff of lavender and something spicy like pepper. Producing a rag from the pocket of her apron, she wiped down the table, the cloth coming perilously close to his face.

"I'm surprised you can see anything from the amount you've drunk tonight. You must have broken some sort of record"

He grinned, sitting upright temporarily and banging his chest with pride "I am the best in everything!"

She snorted, indifferent to what he deemed as his most charming smile. Quickly taking away the mug of mead that he had almost procured from a table nearby, she handed it back to the other customer with a faint smile before turning back to the knight.

"We'll see when you're at training tomorrow morning" she said, poking him in the ribs to make sure he was still awake. Sometimes the other knights would come and collect him, but more often than not, they were busy with some sort of important business. As a result, there had been far too many times when Sylvia had to cart him back to the castle when the bar closed. Once she led him out the door a few hours before she left, only to discover that he had fallen asleep in the doorway with his money stolen. Cursing him every step of the way, Sylvia dragged him all the way up the castle steps, not particularly caring when his head would occasionally come into contact with suits of armour. The next morning, he even had the audacity to ask whether she had a pleasant night, which she responded with a vehement 'no' as she massaged her sore shoulders.

He titled his face to the side, grinning at her while his brown eyes were wide and pleading "Are you coming to watch?"

She smirked, "How about just concentrating on waking up tomorrow first hm?"

He gave her a mock salute, his voice slurred but happy "Right you are Sylvie!"

She smacked him upside the head with her spare hand, frowning at the nickname "Don't call me Sylvie!"

**A/N:** _Short update, I know (But I did say that these were short stories didn't I? ;) )! Thanks for the response and follows on the first part. Leon is such a sweetheart isn't he? Hopefully you liked Gwaine's little part too :)_

_Love,  
DecoyDream x_


	3. Part 3: Sir Percival

**Part 3: Sir Percival**

At first he wasn't sure how he felt about her, other than the fact she sells the best apples and her eyes are the exact shade of cinnamon.

He always sees her in the marketplace, her cart right in between the baker who sells the softest bread and the old woman with a gleaming gold tooth and an array of odd trinkets from faraway places that he's never heard of.

Lately, he finds that he's been gravitating towards that corner of the street. No longer content with asking Elyan to grab him an apple when he goes on his break, Percival decided venture over there himself to meet the girl whose family owns an orchard on the outskirts of Camelot.

He watched her as he approached, feeling his nervousness grow as she smiled and waved him over. She didn't look particularly beautiful – not like those Princesses that stayed in the palace. But there was always something cold and untouchable about those young women, a sense of falsity and overly polite mannerisms that made Percival feel like an uncultured brute. So, he surmised, as he looked at her brown eyes, brown hair that hung below her shoulders, brown tattered dress and her set of slightly crooked teeth; there was something lovely about her humble countenance and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled.

They talk for a little while – short and stilted introductions where Percival soon realises that she knows a lot about him while he knows almost nothing about her (other than the apples, of course). They talk about her parents orchard and Percival's lack of armoured sleeves (which she declares is "very dangerous" and "frankly strange") and he finds that he hasn't laughed so much in such a long time. Before he realises it, a young guard comes and finds him with the reminder that sword training is almost set to begin.

He bids her goodbye, accepting the apple that she forcibly pressed into his hand. He is about to leave with a brief word of thanks when she speaks up just as he turns to go.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asks shyly, an undeniable smattering of hope colouring her voice.

He shrugs nonchalantly, trying his best to act casual and not at all flustered "Well, I have training and patrols…"

She waves her hands wildly, her cheeks colouring "Oh, I only meant if you had time! Not that you should feel obligated to come and see me or anything…" she trails off awkwardly.

Percival shifts the weight on his feet, evaluating what he should say. Contrary to popular belief, he was not use to the attention that women offered. Sometimes, the other knights would take him to tavern just to watch his face turn red when one of the more brazen young ladies would try to garner his attention. Once, a lovely woman full of sinful smiles and dark glances trailed her cold palms up his arms, catching him unaware. He ended up jumping from the shock, sending the woman (who was sitting on his lap, without permission) tumbling to the ground. It was fair to say that no amount of Percival's awkward apologies relieved the woman of her intense humiliation, and he wasn't at all surprised when he never saw her come over again.

But this girl, Priah, he thinks her name is, is quite different from the woman at the bar even though he barely knows her. But there are some things that he has gained from his apple visit and his routine lurking around the markets, and he's surprised to find that she's oddly endearing.

She's so unsure of herself and full of nervous habits, such as the way she would shred the hem of her sleeves out of nervousness around him. He noticed the way that she spoke, unfiltered and honest but lacking grace and subtlety. She's perhaps one of the least eloquent people he's even met in his life and yet he feels like he could be friends with someone like her. A kind and honest person who smiles like she means it and is interesting without trying too hard to be.

He glances up at her, realising that he had been silent in thought for a few moments too long. Holding up the apple she gave him earlier with a grin, he thanks her and gives her an honest reply of "I'll try to visit if I can".

She nods in response, looking a little embarrassed but quite pleased as she wipes her hands on the front of her worn apron "See you later then Percy!"

He turns away, heading back up to Camelot castle. It's not until he's in the midst of annihilating a young knight in training does he realise she called him Percy.

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_**A/N:**__ Majorly long wait, I know! Hopefully you liked Percival's little chapter anyway - review if you can?_

_Also, whose chapter/section do you like the most so far? I'm curious..._

_Love, DecoyDream x_


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